The Gift
by MooncatX
Summary: Tessa, aka Sage, seeks a closer alliance between Hellfire Club and the X-men, but her recent change of allegiance has made negociations difficult. However, she has decided to make a special peace offering to her one time leader Storm. FEMSLASH Emma Frost
1. The Proposal

The Gift

The New York chapter of the infamous Hellfire Club was celebrating the re-opening of its traditional seat of operations. To most, the multi-storied building, now newly repaired and remodeled after the string of unfortunate events that had led to it's previous state of ruin, was simply an exercise of hedonistic excess. Here, where the world's wealthiest and most powerful came to play, in private rooms safe from prying eyes, they also brokered the secret deals which set policy and pulled the financial strings of nations. It was the epitome of a rich man's club, where it was rumored every pleasurable vice was catered to, and nothing was forbidden for those who attained the enviable status of the Lords Cardinal.

And while these things were certainly true, it barely scratched the surface of what the Hellfire Club truly was. If there was any one person who truly understood the scope of the Hellfire Club's clandestine purposes, or the full reach of it's influence, it was the dark haired woman who sat with a quiet, regal grace in one of the elegant private salons that was set aside just for her own use. As the personal aide for the reigning Lord Cardinal and Black King, the woman known as Tessa held considerable power even without a recognizable rank. Tessa was also known as Sage, a codename that alluded to her vast store of knowledge and the uncanny ability she had to access and evaluate it, like a living supercomputer. Sage was a mutant, whose special abilities made her a dangerous and valuable resource to those who could claim her loyalty. Unfortunately, for many who'd once thought the lovely young woman was firmly set in their camp, Sage's loyalty was a deeply hidden truth known to none but herself. Hellfire Club and X-men both had felt the sting of betrayal as her allegiance to either and both had shifted from one to the other without warning.

It was mindful of Tessa's proven capacity for treachery that had the coolly beautiful blonde woman on watchful edge as she reclined in the offered seat across from her one time companion. Emma Frost, who herself was once the White Queen of the Hellfire Club and through some truly ironic twists of fate was now one of the X-men, had been surprised to receive a personal invitation to come and speak with Tessa. Though they had been close acquaintances when both were members in the Hellfire Club, their relationship had been for the greater part coolly formal, save for those rare few times when need had required them to be very … intimate. An unexpected flush of warmth from memories Emma had thought long put aside crept through her. The Hellfire Club expected sensual excess from its leading members, and as the White Queen, Emma had played her role with consummate skill that had made her legendary. At times that legend had included the services of Shaw's personal aide, in ways that would have brought a blush to Emma's cheeks if she were still capable of such displays.

But that had been another time, another life. When Tessa had finally revealed herself an X-men agent, long ago planted by Charles Xavier to spy upon the Hellfire Club, and returned to the Xavier Institute in Westchester, the X-men base of operations, Emma had already made her own switch of allegiance and thrown herself headlong into the role of headmistress to a new generation of X-men affiliated youth at what had once been the Massachusetts Academy, reborn as Xavier's new School For Gifted Youngsters. In that strangely more innocent time, their paths had not re-crossed, and Emma now wondered at that, and suspected that Tessa had deliberately avoided contact with her fellow former Hellfire Club member. Not that Emma herself had gone out of her way to try and initiate any contact… Emma pushed what might have been regret from her mind. Now was not the time to reminisce on might have beens.

It was only some little time ago that she and Tessa had finally met up again, when the rogue team of X-men that Storm had splintered off from Xavier had attempted to appropriate one of Emma's students in their pursuit of a mutant murderer. That meeting had been much less than cordial. Their adversarial encounter had ended with Emma and Storm together attempting a rescue of Tessa, Bishop, and a group of young mutant children that had been captured by an old and dangerous enemy that Emma hadn't even realize she had. Said rescue had gone wrong almost at once, though to the detriment of Emma's pride, Storm had won out in the end while she herself had fallen to the enemy with terrifying completeness and speed. It had shaken her to the core to realize that the creature known as Elias Bogan had mental hooks set so deeply into her psyche, which she had never suspected. Strangely, it was Storm who'd offered her some measure of comfort afterwards, swearing to find out how such a thing had come to pass. That in itself held it's own unsettling implications for Emma, as the once sharp lines between enemy and ally began to waver and blur.

"Emma, I'm pleased you came." Tessa's voice was cool, soothing silk, the trained voice of a Hellfire Club employee whose smooth tones were meant to convey pleasant and professional service.

"How could I refuse such a enticing invitation?" Emma's own voice held a razor fine edge of sarcasm in it's well bred, New England nuances. The notice that had summoned her had been terse, almost an order. She'd considered simply ignoring Tessa's demand, but her own begetting demon of curiosity had won out. Tessa, Sage… or whatever the black haired minx was calling herself now, knew too much, had seen too much to disregard out of hand. And it preyed upon Emma's peace of mind, what little she had these days, that Tessa's game was too subtle and deep a thing to let play out with investigation. "I'd be flattered that I was the one X-men you sought out as an envoy between Xavier's Institute and the Hellfire Club, except that I have a feeling I may be the only one who does not currently look at you as a social pariah. I hear Storm still refuses to speak with you, even though you've called her a dozen times or more.

"As past events have shown, lack of well established lines of communication between X-men have led to often disastrous consequences." Tessa's voice was still calm, but the shadow dark blue of her eyes seemed to deepen at Storm's name. "Twice Elias Bogan has had the benefit of setting different groups of X-men against each other, advancing his own cause while those who should be allies wasted time in unnecessary opening conflicts."

"And that has what to do with the Hellfire Club, darling Tessa?" Emma tilted her head in question as her ice blue eyes narrowed. "Or have you forgotten you are no longer an active X-men?"

"I forget nothing." Tessa's eyes caught those of the former White Queen with an almost chilling intensity. "But our current Lord Cardinal, Roberto Da Costa is also head of X-Corp, and he and I are not the only members of the Hellfire Club who have been X-men, or X-men who are Hellfire Club members. There is quite a bit of cross pollination between the two groups, and it would serve us all well if we had protocols in place for the eventual joint crisis we both know will arise."

"We've played such games of alliance before Tessa. When Magneto held both the Hellfire Club's kingship and a crucial place amongst the X-men. It was such a transitory event that someone blinking would have missed it." Emma's softly drawled derision was deliberately provoking, but it only brought a slight smile to Tessa's enigmatic face.

"Because it was based on one man's fleeting memberships, instead of a true establishment of deep relations between organizations. X-men and Hellfire Club have their differences, but the world has become too dangerous for us to continue the petty competitions for the same resources in those times we should be working jointly. It's not only inefficient; it is inevitable that it will one day prove fatal."

"Inefficient. Ah Tessa, you've never really changed, not deep down at your core, have you? All cool ordered computations where a heart should beat." Emma's tone of patronization did not veil the true interest in her eyes. Despite her demeanor of cruel, dilettante disaffection, she did not discount the true worth of Tessa's proposal. "So how would you suggest we establish real, deep and abiding links between the X-men and the Hellfire Club? Storm was your own team leader with the X-men, and she's not even willing to take a phone call from you now."

"Storm has a very passionate nature, and right now she's angry with me." Tessa acknowledged, "But I think I've found the perfect peace offering, a gift that will calm her enough to work out our differences."

"Really? And what could that possibly be?" Emma's laugh lit up her face as she shook her head at Tessa in scornful disbelief. "Ororo is the last person on the planet that I'd expect could be simply bought off, no matter how fine a prize you might present her with."

"Even if that prize is you?" Tessa's finely arched eyebrow rose suggestively as she watched the laughter drain from Emma to be replaced with a expression of speechless shock.

To be continued


	2. The Negociations

part two - NEGOCIATIONS

The room was large, if by no means the arena like dimensions of the notorious X-men training area called "the Danger Room." Though more modest in size, the room held far more critical things in common with the facility it was based upon. Shi'ar technology, the advanced science of an intergalactic empire that the X-men had several encounters with, had been provided to Charles Xavier, the one time consort to Empress Lilandra of the Shi'ar. That technology had allowed the X-men to create the most enviable of training environments, a small dominion of space where any customized setting from primeval jungle to science fiction spacescape could be reproduced with astounding realism. Solid light holographic projections that would put to shame a master illusionist could bring any fantasy to vibrant tactile life.

The X-men used their "Danger Room" to battle countless faux foes and face down epic, yet ultimately contrived peril and jeopardy. There they could battle fiercely against the very hosts of hell, yet remain secure from true harm by the installed safety protocols. The Hellfire Club's newest addition was meant for more intensely private and personal use, where the true threats in the heart of the fantasy would come the room's patrons, and not the room itself. One might think it's more cheerful and appealing appellation meant this smaller facility was for more kind and gentle purpose than it's X-men counterpart, but like all things Hellfire, what seems the most innocuous was often the most hazardous of all. No one was more keenly aware of this truth than the woman garbed in a familiar white costume as she paced the confines of the "Pleasure Room."

"How did I let myself be talked into this?" Emma's words were half mutter, half groan. Sage had been too clever by half at using long standing debts against the former White Queen, but it was that extra appeal to her covetous nature that had provided the final push. To be no longer owing, but owed by the black haired cyberpath had been a heady thought… before the full weight of what Tessa was asking her to endure had fully dawned on Emma. The costume had been the first indication of how far Tessa planned to take her machinations. The corset top of soft, supple leather was a white so pure it nearly glowed against Emma's own fair skin. Tessa had taken it upon herself to cinch tight the laces, making sure the corset's confining embrace would press Emma's captive flesh to the point of breathlessness, until the trembling swell of cupped breasts that were so aggressively thrust forward threatened to spill past the costume's confines.

The brief white triangle that was the bikini bottom covered her sex, and scarce anything else. Matching white thigh high boots actually covered more flesh the rest of her outfit combined. Sleek white leather that smoothed snug over long, sleek legs, and ended in wickedly high spiked heels. It was almost her old White Queen costume, sans the rich, fur trimmed cape, and without the opera gloves that she'd always felt added a touch of elegance to an otherwise blatantly erotic ensemble. The only touch of color to Emma's outfit was the red jewel set in the collar Tessa had added as a final touch. It's crystalline glow like a drop of living blood at her throat was more than decorative, the jewel and collar laid Emma far more bare than the scant leather costume. Again the telepath tried to scan for any thoughts other than her own. Again, the faint throb that using her power gave her was the only result. How it galled her that she'd allowed Tessa to collar her with an inhibitor device. How had she let herself be manipulated so? The argument over the details of their agreement had twisted in and out like a snake, and somehow she'd let her challenged pride overcome her common sense… worse, her keenly honed sense of self preservation. She should walked out the moment Tessa had made this part of the scenario. But she hadn't… Emma's fists clenched, the manicured tips of her nails biting into her palms. Why hadn't she just walked away? Even though Tessa had coded the device to deactivate if Emma spoke her safe word, the feeling of utter vulnerability of being even temporarily shriven of her mutant powers made her shiver. Ah… now she remembered…

"I know you Emma, once Storm begins to get rough with you, your instinctive reaction to use your power will kick in." Tessa's calm and reasonable tone had made Emma want to grit her teeth. Did the cyberpath not realize just how outrageous her statement was? "And let's face it, with your tempestuous nature, keeping control of your primal responses has never been your strongest suit. You'd either be in diamond form before you'd even realize it, or worse, trying to dominate her mind. Wear the collar. It will curb your abilities just enough that you won't be using them out of sheer reflex."

"You are mad, Tessa. You can't expect me to put myself at Storm's mercy without my powers!" Emma's ice blue eyes burned, "That woman hates me with the very core of her being. I could be ash and cinders from a lightening strike before the session even begins."

"You forget how well I can read you Emma, you don't really believe she'd do true harm to someone unable to defend herself." Tessa's slight smile mocked the blonde woman's passionate protests, "Why don't you admit the real reason you are afraid to face Storm without your diamond or psychic armor?"

"Please! As if I'm afraid of that white haired weather witch! Even if she doesn't take advantage of having me in a state of weakness, self righteous prig that she is…, " Emma's voice trailed off into a soft growl. Then, with a sigh of exasperation, she let the smooth fall of her blonde hair slide back over her shoulders as she raised her chin with an imperious arrogance, "Tessa , it's simply just a waste of our time to spend a session together, especially here of all places. She'll no doubt waste it all preaching at me about morals and ethics and how I lack either. Why should I allow you to deprive me of my powers just so she can lecture me to death?"

"If all you fear is being lectured, what will it matter if you use the collar? It's merely a precaution, since your safe word will disable the collar if there is a true, real need arises. Unless…" Tessa's voice warmed with a delicate derision, "You so totally lack self control you can't even get through a harsh lecture without using your safe word. My, how the once might White Queen has fallen."

Emma's glare could have peeled paint. "The day I need to use my safe word with the likes of Storm is the day I'd let you put the whip to me, Tessa darling."

"Is that supposed to be an incentive?" Tessa's teeth shone whitely as her smile turned from sly to feral. "I'll match you then. If you can last an entire session wearing the collar without giving Storm your safeword, I will give you a marker to redeem as you see fit. I know you value my skills."

"You are mad." Emma's eyes widened at Tessa's offer, then narrowed, "But I'll take that wager. You are selling yourself far too cheaply, but I'm not one to disdain a bargain."

"In the meantime you will no doubt benefit from the humbling feeling of vulnerability the collar will give you." Tessa's voice grew crisp as the final accord of their bargain was set into place.

And then suddenly, Emma wondered if she'd gotten such a bargain after all…

The electric hum of the Pleasure Room's entrance sliding open broke Emma's reverie and she tensed, waiting for what was to come.

To Be Continued...  



	3. The Choice

The Gift - chapter 3

"…a Danger Room!" Storm's strong exclamation resounded through the doorway, the displeasure clear in her voice as was the bitter edge of accusation. "Now I begin to see why the others thought it was so necessary for me to come and tour the new Hellfire Club building. What else have you purloined from the X-men for your Hellfire Club masters, Sage? Maybe you'd care to share the going price on betrayal these days." 

"Ultimately, Storm, the price paid for anything of true value is counted in dearest coin." Tessa's voice followed with a serene lack of shame. "True, I may have appropriated a few things you consider X-men property, but some special prizes I've merely reclaimed for those they were meant for all along."

They entered tandem, Storm unexpectedly in civilian garb. Apparently the X-men team leader had decided on discretion for her visit. Emma had at Tessa's advice, suggested to the X-men that Storm should accept the standing invitation to tour the Hellfire Club's new facilities, arguing that greater the knowledge the X-men had of their oft time adversaries, the better. Storm's great reluctance had eventually been overcome after enough subtle digs that she was throwing away a gift-wrapped opportunity to gain a practical advantage because her feelings were hurt over Tessa's defection. Since Emma was the one who'd originated the provoking insinuations, she hadn't exactly endeared herself to the now rather vexed Storm.

Emma had to admit Storm looked good in the chic ensemble she'd chosen for her visit. The X-men as a whole did tend to clean up well, and Storm would always be outstanding by any standard. The heavy silken fall of her uniquely silver white mane was caught up in rare upswept style. The silvery frame of hair was drawn away from the elegant oval of Storm's face with a sleek severity and caught and held in an attractive chignon by a beautiful pair of ornate metal spikes. Her dress was a clinging sleeveless sheath of metallic toned dark grey silk. The floor length fall of shimmering cloth was slit high on each side, providing a gratifying display of beautifully toned café au lait leg while ensuring the woman wearing the dress would have full range of movement. It was no accident that if need be, Storm could fight in that dress. She was clearly on her guard. Woman or dress were well worth a second glance on their own, together the combination was nothing less than devastating. Though Emma was loath to admit it, the effect was not completely lost on her. Storm was truly one of the most intensely stunning females in existence, curse her weather witch eyes.

Tessa was in a black Hellfire Club corset that was the casual risqué standard for female members, but the black leather pants that fed into equally ebon calf high boots showed Tessa possessed the rare privilege of wearing as much or as little as she pleased. Emma's own sense of near nakedness took a keener edge as she measured the differences between them now. She had gained the right to dress to her mood after attaining the rank of White Queen, though she often wore the more traditional attire, it had been her choice to do so. She'd long ago made peace with any feelings of shame or embarrassment the Hellfire Club provocative costumes evoked; still… it had been some time since she'd donned this brief a version of her Hellfire attire. Tessa had chosen the costume for this deep game of hers, and though Emma would be damned before she'd show it, relinquishing even this much control made her… uneasy.

Now, finally facing Storm's startled, wide eye'd stare, Emma was acutely aware of how control had been stripped away from her on many levels, and her safe word pulsed in her mouth like a warm, living thing. One word, and she could end this farce before it could even begin… Storm's cat like blue eyes blazed with suspicion and the air grew sharp with the scent of ozone. Emma could feel the build of static electricity in the air shiver over her skin and bit back a gasp of alarm. The blonde woman's gaze shifted to Tessa, and took in the subtle smile barely curving the cyberpath's lips. Of course… the black haired schemer would win no matter what happened. Tessa stood to gain something in any eventuality, unless Storm was the one to walk away. Swallowing both her safe word and her skittishness, Emma waited to see how things would unfold.

"What is the meaning of this?" Storm's normally melodious voice was harsh, as she demanded answers from her former teammate. Her exotically pale gaze smoldered with a complex mix of emotions, not the least was distrust, and a certain feral contempt. "Why is **_she_** here!"

Something in Emma bristled at Storm's clear disdain. Who did Ororo Munroe thinks she was to cast such haughty condemnations with her eyes? The blonde woman's stance shifted in response to the pure alpha aggressiveness in the African woman's exotic eyes as they raked over her with a burning intensity. Emma's hips tilted into a more defiant cant as her shoulders went back and her chin went up with an equal mien of arrogance. She was not some milk water maiden to be cowed with just a look!

"This is the Hellfire Club, darling." Emma's words purred out with sweet, silken threat, "Where else would you expect to find the White Queen?"

"Followed Tessa's lead and returned to type, Emma?" The room's temperature dropped to a startling chill that matched Storm's glare. Despite state of the art climate control that should have kept the room at comfortable warmth, misty trails of vapor accented each of her damning words, "I should have known you couldn't withstand the rigors of being an X-men. Hellfire Club members seem to lack the fortitude."

"Peace, Storm." Tessa's laid a light hand on the woman's shoulder, "Emma hasn't left the X-men, but if you would like to test the limits of her fortitude, you have an ideal opportunity before you." Storm's piercing gaze snapped to her one time teammate with an intensity that would have staggered a lesser person, but Tessa did not fall back, or remove her deceptively gentle grip.

"I know you are displeased with my decision to return to the Hellfire Club." The dark haired cyberpath met Storm's baleful stare with her own rich indigo regard, "But that choice shouldn't break the ties of friendship we share."

Their gaze locked for long moments that lay fraught with unspoken emotion, until finally the X-men leader turned away. "This is so wrong, Tessa." The glacial chill slowly bled away from Storm's face to be reveal the underlying hurt and confusion, "We trusted you. _I_ trusted you. How could you turn away from us for _this_?" Her hands gestured widely, "The Hellfire Club. Beneath it's trappings of wealth and power is the steady reek of corruption. I know you Tessa, or I thought I did. I could have sworn the superficial things the Hellfire Club offers mean nothing to you. Am I wrong? Was my judgment so flawed?"

"Storm…" Tessa exhaled her one time teammate's name quietly, as soft as a sigh of entreaty, "Before you condemn what the Hellfire Club in its entirety, you should sample some of what it has to offer." She held up a finger to forestall the automatic rejection on Storm's lips, "Or more correctly, what _I_ can offer on it's behalf. The X-men and Hellfire Club need not always be at odds. And the fruits of alliance can be… surprisingly sweet."

Storm studied the dark haired woman's face. Sage's trademark cool composure gave nothing away, but the gleam in her dark blue eyes made unsettling promises.

"What could you possibly offer that could convince me of that?" Storm's voice grew hard as she turned from Tessa, and with a suppressed start, found herself staring into Emma Frost's oddly apprehensive gaze. She'd forgotten the other woman's presence, but now face to face with the woman who had once violated her on the most intimate level of mind, body, and soul, Storm's feelings of passionate outrage surged forward once more. There were unsettled matters between them still, and fellow X-men now or no, Storm would not easily forgive such primal transgressions.

"Haven't you guessed yet, my friend?" Tessa's voice held an unusual lilt of amusement.

Storm frowned, confused. What the devil was Sage hinting at? And why was Emma, of all people here? Tessa, fount of knowledge that she was, well knew the tense history between them… And then it became impossibly clear to her.

"As a gesture of good will, on behalf of the Hellfire Club, I give to you, Emma Grace Frost. Please don't kill her." Tessa's announcement confirmed Storm's most outrageous suspicion, "Otherwise, feel free to make whatever use of her as you will. The Pleasure Room is completely at your disposal until such time as you are completely satisfied with your… gift."

"Tessa!" Storm's initial outburst was expected.

…

"I accept."

**tbc**


	4. The Defiance

Tessa's lips curved in a rare, full smile as she observed Storms complete attention focus on Emma, and the slightly dazed look in her pale blue eyes. The former White Queen hadn't **_really_** believed the upstanding X-men team leader would accept, not in her innermost heart. It was partly why Tessa had been able to gain Emma's compliance with only a modest amount of finessing. But Emma hadn't had the privilege of being close to Ororo for the past few years as Sage had, nor witnessed the deep toll taken by Storms lengthy captivity as both the premiere gladiator and personal slave to the pathologically insane mutant known as Masque. 

Storm had been lost far too long in the underground of mutant arena games, subjected to a shadowy world of savage and at times exhilarating violence where the deepest, most base expressions of pleasure and pain blurred the lines of punishment and reward. There her would be master sought to break Storm through unspeakable torments and seductions that encompassed both the obscene and the sublime. No, Emma couldn't have been aware that the deepest core of all that made Ororo herself had gone through a blazing inferno of tortures and temptations; only to come out again reforged in arcane ways that made her both stronger and darkly disturbing.

Sage had seen the subtle shifts in Storms innermost nature that the other X-men remained oblivious to, or deliberately ignored. They did not want to see the changes. It would be too alarming if they had to face them and all they implied. Tessa could not afford the comforts of ignorance though. With all factors in her game weighed and measured, she had been reasonably sure Storm would accept this unique opportunity to finally deal with Emma with her new perspective, and without distractions. Though the swiftness of Storm's acceptance _was_ somewhat surprising. Tessa had anticipated that Storm would need more convincing. That she had accepted with such alacrity however only confirmed the cyberpath's suspicions. And while Tessa herself was not sure to what essential degree Ororo was changed, by the time Storm was done with Emma Many things would be made clear.

"I've programmed the room to respond to your commands Storm. Much of the base data is the same as with the Danger Room, and I've included a few settings you may find interesting. Emma is completely at your disposal. However, the inhibitor collar she is wearing," Tessa paused as the blonde woman's hand flew without thinking to her throat. Storms eyes fastened on the jeweled restraining device with a swift, predatory assessment that reminded the cyberpath all too vividly of their time in the Savage Land. There the mutant wind rider had been transformed into an animalistic, feral huntress. She had slowly and painstakingly regained her human mien with Sages help... at least physically. "Will only come off if Emma gives up her safe word."

At Storms sharp look of inquiry, Tessa leaned forward to hand her a small parchment card, a single word written in exquisitely ornate calligraphy graced the surface. Reading it, silver blue catseyes widened, then narrowed in thought.

"Least you think Emma will give up her safe word too easily, be assured that she pays a grievous forfeit if she cannot last through the session, as well, her pride and reputation stand challenged and will bare the brunt of any spurious use. By Hellfire Club rules, save for death or permanent harm, you are permitted all things. Within the confines of your session, only her safe word counts as true refusal." Tessa tilted her head, dark blue eyes darkening to black as she gave Storm the final protocols. "Any other denial, vocal or otherwise, you may take into consideration, and disregard as it pleases you. Unless Emma uses her safe word, the session isn't complete and over until you are completely satisfied, in whichever and whatever way you desire."

For a moment, Storm was still. Her initial impulsive acceptance had been a snap reaction to her building frustration with Sage, and the flare of ardent aggression she instinctively felt for Emma Frost. But now that the dark haired cyberpath had so baldly laid out the limits… or rather, the appalling lack there of... 

"When you are ready, simply begin." Tessa's final statement turned Storm's attention to her one time teammate just in time to watch her exit with the quiet, serene grace that had during their time together become so achingly familiar. The sound of the door shutting behind her was soft as a whisper, but a clap of thunder could not have been more momentous.

"Surely you don't plan to go through with Tessa's game." Emma's mocking tone conveyed the unmistakable message that she found situation to be totally ridiculous, but her ice blue eyes followed Storm with the wary care a white Persian cat might have if she found herself trapped with a lioness. While the powerful telepath was not someone to be taken lightly, without her powers she stood little chance against someone of Ororo's formidable abilities. "Really Storm, isn't something like _this_ beneath you?"

"Start Program." Storm coolly ignored Emma's words and waited for the room to take on new parameters. " Setting… 131."

The lights dimmed in response and in the space of a breath, the formally Spartan room was recreated into an unfortunately familiar setting.

"It seems Sage has copied the Danger Rooms program archive." Storm commented as she paced the confines of the remade chamber, "After our first encounter with the Hellfire Club, when the pain of Jeans passing had finally eased, constructing this mock up was painfully therapeutic. Do you remember? How she rescued me from you, that first time."

"How could I forget?" Emma's voice had gone carefully soft as she turned from the intensity in Storms steady stare, and slowly looked over a replica of a laboratory. The walls were lined with desks and instruments that for their time had been cutting edge science equipment, towards the center of the room was a large Y shaped construct, the wrist restraints on the upper arms silently proclaiming its purpose. The original room, in depths of the Frost Enterprises headquarters, had been destroyed many years ago. The chill Storm had brought to the air had remained though everything else had changed. Emma ran her hands over her bare arms trying to forestall a shiver, and tried to convince herself it was only the lack of heat. Without the cape and gloves, her brief costume offered little protection from the cold, and less from stirring memories. "Interrogation is seldom pleasant, but you were so very stubborn at fighting my mind probe. It wouldn't have hurt nearly so much if you had even the faintest concept of submission." 

"You enjoyed it." Storm's voice hardened with a long hoarded anger, "You forced your way into my mind and gloried in the feeling of domination it gave you. Even through my own screaming agony, I could feel your pleasure, pulsing like a second heart beat beneath my own."

"So now you expect to get some of your own back, Storm?" Emma's eyes flashed, as she turned to find the distance between herself and Storm had disappeared. They stood less than an arms length from each other, and a world apart. "It was a long time ago. I was much different then."

"Not so different." Storms words struck coldly. "You still take what you want without regard to the pain and suffering you cause. To believe otherwise is a practice of self deception."

Almost, a protest rose to Emma's lips, but staring into her one time captives accusing eyes, she found other words, cruel words that might serve better a shield from Storms cutting verbal attack.

"Yes, I hurt you, because I **_wanted_** to hurt you... and yes, I **_liked_** it. I was each and every inch the villainess you considered me to be, rapacious and callous to the harm I caused in the pursuit of my desires." Her lips curved in a half bitter, half amused smile at the growing fury in Storms eyes. "You see? I have no illusions about myself Storm. I am who I am, and make no apologies for it. Even if I were so inclined, it wouldn't ease the vengeful ache in your breast, would it?"

"So unrepentant", The words hissed low between Storms teeth like a snake, "Perhaps if you knew better the suffering you so easily met on others, it might strip some of that callous disregard from you."

"**_You_** would seek to lesson **_me_** in suffering?" Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from her. Even though she knew goading Storm further would only worsen an already lamentablely uncertain situation, she just couldn't seem to help herself. There was something about Ororo that brought out Emma's worst impulses. "It was my mother's milk. I know suffering, Wind Rider, and how its better to be its cause than its victim."

Stepping away from the now ominously still Storm, Emma moved to the Y frame and slid her hand over one of the upper arms slowly. The gesture was almost affectionate. "There, is little that someone like you could teach me, Ororo. Though, Ill grant, you **_did _**have a certain talent for it. I don't know if I've ever seen anyone suffer so beautifully."

"You seem remarkably unconcerned," Storms voice had taken on a flat, nearly emotionless tone, "For someone with so much to answer for, now that you are in the hands of someone with the opportunity to make you pay."

"I'll admit, for a moment I was almost concerned." Emma's voice had regained its habitual purr of insolence. "A brief touch of irrational worry. But then my reason reasserted itself as I realized that there is really nothing you can do, short of killing me, and you've already had your chance at that and passed it by. You are too conventionally noble to make good or rather, bad, upon your oh so intimidating postures."

"Put your wrists in the restraints." Storms comments were delivered in the same curiously flat tone as before. "Now."

"You are joking, aren't you dear? You may summoned up this delightful recreation of our **_special_** first encounter with each other, but don't expect me to jump through hoops out of some pedestrian sense of remorse." Emma's tone had grown irritatingly patronizing.

"If I understood Tessa correctly," Storms eyes narrowed as she spoke, "You are mine to do what I please with."

"Oh, I am yours, Storm. Lock, stock..." The blonde woman leaned back against the Y frame in a mockingly provocative pose, "... and barrel. But while you may have me, you haven't **_tamed_** me. Did you think I was just going to obey you like a good little slave? Dream on. This is the Hellfire Club, where the strong command the weak. Obedience is enforced with… force. To be perfectly frank, I don't think you have it in you to **_make_** me obey."

For the first time since entering the Hellfire Clubs smaller knock off of the Danger Room, Storm smiled. It was not a particularly nice smile.

"Lets find out then, shall we?"

**_tbc_**


	5. Th Dominance

WARNING

this chapter contains violence and bdsm implications. Now things begin to grow darker, but it's still fairly clean. Later Chapters will be posted elsewhere because of more restricted content. Thank you for reading so far, all comments and feedback are appreciated.

The Gift - Part 5 : the Dominance

"Emma… You could never resist playing with fire." Sage's comment was softly amused as she watched the scene unfolding between the former White Queen and Storm. "What was it you once told me? '_Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can truly go.'_ So… you've realized Storm isn't going to let this chance pass by, and will try to brazen it out in your typical damn the consequences style. You will push her, and keep pushing even though you know your boldness will cost you dear. Or is it… _because_ it will cost you so dear?"

In her private observation lounge, Sage studied the myriad data streams fed to her from the vast array of sensors that monitored and recorded _everything_ within the Hellfire Club's _'Pleasure Room' _and particularly noted the quickening of the blonde woman's heart beats, the increased rate of her blood circulation, the spiking of her adrenalin levels… so many tell tale signs for the cyberpath to absorb and assess, which she did with a certain pleased interest.

Emma had thrown down the gauntlet for a battle of wills, and Storm had not been loathe to take it up. One moment the beautiful, regal black woman in the couture gown stood sleek, elegant and as still as a forest pool of deepest water, the next she was a white water rush of motion. She fell upon the one time White Queen with the savage force of a huntress born. To her credit, Emma fought back like a true wildcat, instead the pampered pet so many would mistake her for, but the outcome was never in doubt. In the space of heartbeats it was over…

She hung from the frame, defeated, but no less defiant; though her wrists were clamped high and tight, and she still fought to regain the breath that Storm had driven from her with a well placed blow. It had taken mere moments, but she'd ache for days. Blinking to bring the world back into focus, Emma ran her tongue over her lips, trying to alleviate the sudden dryness in her mouth and tasted the faint copper hint of blood. Years of training, both with the younger students at Xavier's, and later true combat sessions with the other X-men as Emma had become more of a team member had made her a fair fighter. Or at least she had thought so before being so summarily handed her ass by that white haired weather witch. Perhaps she could hold her own in an ordinary skirmish if she had to, even without her diamond form to give her hard and solid edge, but against Storm… The stories about her gladiator level fighting prowess were true, blast her hide.

"Still so sure I don't have what it takes?" Storm's voice held purring note of satisfaction as one dark, graceful hand casually gripped Emma's pale blonde hair at the nape and pulled back with a possessive tightness. In contrast to Emma's thorough dishevelment, their brief combat hadn't even mussed the lustrous milk white of Ororo's upswept hair. "Perhaps you are now beginning to feel a few pangs of… remorse?"

"Bite me." Emma's impulsive, rude reply made the hand in her hair tighten even more, and she couldn't help a sudden gasp of pain and surprise.

"If that's how you want to play it." Storm's voice dropped to lower, more ominous register.

Before Emma could even think to resist, the hand in her hair yanked her head aside, and a frightened bleat of protest escaped her lips as Storm's mouth came down on her throat. She could feel the hard edges of the other woman's teeth pressing into the delicate skin just over the pulse point that beat frantically. Emma's breath shuddered in her breast as she expected the sensation of tearing pain… and instead felt the soft moist warmth of an exploratory tongue. Where Storm's mouth lingered, the mix of her warm breath with chilled air on the captive telepath's throat was sending a steady stream of odd shocks through out Emma aching body.

"Fear tastes good on you, Emma Frost." Storm's voice had gone smoky with a tone of almost sensuous menace. "Better than I thought it would. I could tear you open right now, and there is absolutely _nothing_ you could do to stop me."

"I don't fear you, Wind Rider." Despite her brave words, Emma couldn't help the tremble in her voice that made them a lie. With the inhibitor collar on, Emma couldn't tell what thoughts were lurking behind Storm's ominous attitude. A soul deep shiver ran through her as the depth of her helplessness truly sank in. She couldn't tell what the weather witch was thinking…

"You should. You shall." Storm brought her head up to pin her captive's wide eyed gaze with her own silver washed intensity, "You made me your slave once. Violated me… used me for your pleasure without the slightest consideration. Now I will repay that **_favor_** as it deserves. I will take what I want from you… _however_ I want to take it from you."

There was an ocean of threat in Storm's words, and no trace of mercy or compassion in her silver white eyes. Sudden lightening made painfully bright flashes as it arc'd through the room blasting through the now out dated machinery and instruments, leaving them smoking debris. The following rumble of thunder filled the room, sounding like the growl of some enormous beast that had swallowed them whole. The dark swirl of thunderclouds that now blanketed the ceiling opened up their hearts and let the waiting rain pour down in drenching sheets.

The display of elemental power left Emma gasping as she tried desperately to wrench her head out of Storm's implacable iron grip. There was nothing to shield her upturned face from the deluge, and her mouth filled with rain, choking her screams. She was drowning… And then as suddenly as it had appeared, the tempest dissolved, leaving the former White Queen sodden and limp in her bonds, coughing through ragged and greedy gulps of air.

Mercifully, the room's climate control had finally met the task of bringing a modicum of warmth to the room, which made being utterly soaked to the skin only uncomfortable, instead of a deadly. White blonde hair plastered down close against her head, Emma opened the eyes she'd had to close against the fury of the downpour and looked up into Storm's waiting scrutiny. Water clung to the weather witch's face in tiny clear beads, and the oh so lovely and sophisticated coif had come undone in the rain, leaving the silken mass of milk white streaming over the warm rich chocolate cream of her bare shoulders. The wet silk of the Ororo's gown clung all but transparent to her body, accentuating instead of hiding the clear evidence of her state of excitement.

Emma recognized the glow of sensual thrill when she saw it. For a brief time she had possessed both the sublimely sensitive body and the elemental powers of Storm, and felt the pure ecstasy that flooded through the one with the use of the other. She'd always wondered how the weather witch continually managed to keep so serene a countenance with so much raw pleasure constantly rushing through her at every use of her power. That chaste, calm façade was absent now, and Emma felt her breath catch at the wanton and cruel delight of Storm's wide smile. As the White Queen, Emma was familiar with hedonistic avarice, but she'd never expected to see such a look on this woman's face.

"Storm… You… You're not really yourself…" Her voice was so damnably weak, and no little hoarse from coughing up the river of rainwater that had all but killed her. "You don't want to do this…"

The hand in Emma's hair released its painful grip and to her alarm began to stroke through the damp, blonde white tresses with a proprietary affection.

"I am more myself now than I have ever been." Storm's voice held the dark glory of thunder only barely contained by it's human shell, "And we've only begun your long over due chastisement Emma Grace Frost."

_**tbc **_


	6. The Cut

The Gift

part 6: The Cut

_She was raw and elemental power, without restraint, without guilt… and it was exhilarating how free she finally felt_. 

Storm knew she was behaving badly. She didn't care. In the past there had been times when she was pushed beyond the limits of her normal restraint and had lost herself in the embrace of her darker passions… for a few glorious, brief moments. Each time she had managed to tame them down again and take back the mantle of sober virtue. But this time she was not turning back. There were no friends and teammates at hand to prick at her conscience and nothing to chide her into taking the nobler path. Here, in the heart of the Hellfire Club there was only she and the one woman who had the temerity to steal away what Storm held most dear. The White Queen, in one of her ploys to capture and subjugate the X-men, had severed a most precious and essential bond between Ororo and the living earth by forcibly switching their minds and bodies. Beyond the theft of flesh, it was that ravishment of her very soul that grieved her most. It was a crime for which there could be no punishment great enough to recompense.

But Storm intended to give it her best shot.

She paused to luxuriate in the moment, slowly perusing the almost mesmerizing display of helpless vulnerability before her. Storm's oft times adversary was caught fast in the very same type of captivity that Ororo had once suffered at those oh so delicate and cruel hands. To see the proud, imperious Emma Frost completely caught fast and at her former captive's mercy was… intensely pleasing. Was _this_ what the White Queen had felt when Storm had been _her_ victim? This strangely seductive excitement that pervaded her entire being? A sensuous shudder ran through her, and Storm wondered at how simply _looking_ at Emma in her helplessness could be so very intoxicating.

The blonde woman had fallen silent, perhaps from the delayed shock of her sudden drenching, or the grasp of her circumstances finally dawning in all its awful fullness. Suspended from the "Y" frame manacles like some pagan sacrifice, the vulnerable length of her lovely body stretched out like a pale and shining offering. Storm continued to stroke her fingers through the damp locks of the telepath's flaxen hair and considered what to do next with her prisoner. She was deceptively fair of face and form, with a rare, unmarred beauty that mocked Storm with its false purity. She was also completely soaked to the skin, of which so very much was exposed in that brief white leather pretense of an outfit. Somehow, the Hellfire Club garb for its female members managed to look more naked than actual nudity. Emma had always managed to use her seductive attire as yet another weapon in her personal arsenal. The White Queen's costume often provided a potent, erotic distraction that the cunning mind witch used to her fullest advantage in confrontations. It was her armor of sorts, a subtle and illicit edge. It would have to go.

The ornamental spikes that had held together Ororo's upswept hairstyle had come loose in the torrential down pour which had left everything in the room sodden and water pooling on the ground to slowly drain away through a grate that had been overlooked until the gurgle of the escaping liquid announced its presence. It too was part of the replica that mimic'd the original laboratory long since destroyed at Frost Enterprises. Storm thought darkly about what it's original's purpose was for, where things less innocent than rain were in need of washing away. Retrieving the wetly shining metal rods, Storm twist and slid one open to reveal the simple but oh so effective blade within. So slender, so very, very sharp.

Watching Storm approach with the naked blade, Emma forcible slowed her ragged breathing and fought an inner battle to remain still instead of frantically twisting in her bonds. She better than any knew how futile it would be for someone with normal human strength to try and break free from these particular restraints. They had been carefully designed to her own specifications to hold fast even someone of Olympic athlete strength no matter how manic or frenzied their struggle. A purpose for which they'd been field tested, time and time again. As she was, Emma knew she had no hope of getting loose save at Storm's sufferance. Gathering the shreds of her dignity, she waited as stoically as she could manage.

The blade was smooth and cold as Storm laid it with a chilling gentleness against the softness of Emma's unblemished cheek. She let it rest there a long and weighted moment, and watched the ice blue of her captive's eyes slowly begin to shimmer with unshed tears. This too was strangely pleasurable, though Storm could not quite put into words why it should be so. "You _are_ afraid." There was the hint of a growl in Ororo's low voice as she finally allowed the blade to move carefully against the skin in a slight, threatening caress, "There is no point in denying it. We both know that the least amount of pressure and this alluring façade falls to ruin. You _could_ use your safe word, and turn to diamond form. Why do you remain flesh?"

Emma wanted to close her eyes against the weather witch's deeply penetrating stare, but found she could not. It was a galling thing to have to admit, but for once she could not give Storm anything less than the truth. "Because… I trust you."

It was a startling answer. Storm wasn't sure she liked its implications. How dare the mind witch presume so much? Anger pulsed hotly in her veins that such a villain as the White Queen would take her safety in Storm's hands for granted… And yet… with that angry heat there was also a confusing sense of… pleased satisfaction?

"You don't think I would cut you?" The question was coldly ominous, and Storm let the blade tip press the most minute amount, so that a single drop of blood welled ruby bright against fair skin.

"You might." Emma's voice was whisper thin, and the genuine lace of fear within it soothed part of the anger that washed through Storm, even as the following words piqued her interest. "But I don't think you will do me… true lasting harm."

"And why do you think that?" Storm's voice grew no warmer, but the light in her cat's pupil eyes brightened with curiosity.

"Because you are a better person than I am."

It was such a simple statement. Yet it conveyed a wealth of complexities.

"Am I?" Storm lowered the blade as she leaned forward and licked away the trembling scarlet bead with the tip of her tongue. "I'm not so sure any more."

The slender knife cut through the first, top lace that held Emma's corset closed.

to be continued...


	7. The Realization

The Gift

Chapter 7

As the thin strip of material parted easily to the razor edged blade, Emma could not help a sharp inhalation of breath, or the slightest of tremors that betrayed her heightened sense of distress. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tried to calm the fiercely fast beat of her heart. The sound of her own blood pounding was a rising roar in her ears and she was sure it was so loud that the weather witch had to hear it as well.

"Open your eyes, Emma. I want you to watch." The curt command was low, but brooked no refusal.

Emma's eyes blinked open and met the intense silver blue gaze that held her own as with unhurried deliberation the knife went on to sever another crisscross of leather cord, then another… Each separating strand allowing the corset to slowly peel open like a dying flower, whose rain wet, white petals would completely fall away at the end of it's final, fatal bloom. As the constrictive confines of the leather loosened, she felt her breasts press free, the soft fullness of their round weight swayed unbound.

Only halfway through the corset ties, the weather witch paused to take notice of how each perfect, exposed breast was graced with a wide, pale coral aureole, a blushing frame for the sweetly prominent bud at the center. Chill? Fear? The tender, rosy tips thrust forward thick and surprisingly firm. Curious, Storm drew the edge of the blade softly over the snowy curve of one breast, and delicately ran the sharp point against a jutting nipple. The response was instant and obvious as the taut, fleshy button flushed a darker pink and seemed to both swell and tighten visibly.

Emma's rising color grew more intense as she felt a warm, rich wave of shame at her body's traitorous reaction. She wanted to shut her eyes again, cursing her tell tale fair complexion as a rare sense of humiliation suffused her.

"This… _excites_ you." Storm's comment wasn't a question, but a pensive statement of the obvious.

"That is ludicrous. As if anything _you_ could do… " Emma's voice faltered, then, lip curled with shaky disdain, she dissembled as artfully as she could manage. "It's only embarrassment at this ridiculous show of revenge, and the lovely damp chill you've put in the air. So there is a _minor_ physical reflex, what does it matter?"

The blade pressed once more to prick the tender, out thrust nub and the bound woman's involuntary gasp and widening eyes answered her own question more thoroughly than mere words. Blood welled once more, red against soft rose, but only a most tiny bead from the shallow pierce.

When Ororo lowered her head towards it, Emma braced herself for another light and brief brush of a tongue to capture the tiny trace of crimson, only to cry out in surprise as instead the weather witch's strong, white teeth captured the nipple in unexpected tightness. Without thinking, Emma's hips thrust back as her back curved in an arch that pressed her breasts forward. She felt Storm's teeth scrape roughly on the tenderness of her flesh, and close down possessively. Though she tried not to react to the sensation of the claiming bite, her body wasn't listening to the cool voice of reason. The pulsing of heat in her veins rose to drown it out. When she was finally released, Emma was panting and flushed with a confusion of shock and need that she desperately tried to hide from her tormentor.

Storm gave her an unsettling and unreadable stare, and without further words, continued with cutting the rest of the corset away from the White Queen's now hotly blushing skin. Emma's breasts felt feverish with the need to be touched, soothed… and the singled out nipple throbbed with an unusual ache that was both pain and pleasure. Emma tried to shift her position, seeking some relief from the tension building in her body, but her ability to move was limited by the restraints that held her fast.

"Something wrong, Emma?" The false solicitude brought a glare from the discomforted blonde, just as the final cut released the corset to fall away completely to leave her naked from the waist up. "Does it really take so little to bring the famed White Queen low?"

"Do your worst, Storm." The telepath had regained some measure of her bravado, using it to mask the whirlwind of mixed emotions she held within. "Your skill at torment is nothing compared to lessons meted out by the Hellfire Club. Were our roles reversed, I'd soon teach you the difference."

"Has anyone ever told you, Emma?" the other woman smoothed back the damp, silky tangle of her silver white locks, and studied the flushed captive with troubled, narrowed eyes, "That you are your own worst enemy? I'm beginning to think you _want_ this." Storm's low, melodic voice held an acerbic edge "Is that why you are _really_ here?"

"Don't be absurd." Ice blue eyes flashing, the blonde woman words came out clipped, as if she were mortally affronted. "I'm only enduring this… I'm only here because Tessa is far too clever for her own good. You'll never have a chance like this again, Wind Rider, of that you may be sure. I most certainly don't want…"

Storm cut through the high thin straps of the costume's bottom half.

"… this!"

The sudden exposure had Emma stunned silent for a moment as she now stood only in a pair of high white boots, and nothing else. The mound of her sex was covered in a short, well trimmed fuzz of light gold. The fine dusting of hair made a pretty accent, while hiding nothing, including the moist pinkness of her more intimate flesh, just visible between the slightly parted outer lips.

The blonde telepath glared wordlessly at the woman holding the blade, but aside from a slight stiffening of her spine tried not to acknowledge her nearly complete nakedness. There was precious little she could do to shield herself, and she didn't want to give Storm the satisfaction of knowing that it mattered how her most private charms was now on blatant display. For all that Emma would dress provocatively, it was very few indeed who were favored with the truly intimate mysteries of her body. That Storm had simply _taken_ that privilege left her feeling most… agitated.

"Without the trappings of the White Queen, you are just another piece of convenient, wanton flesh." The softness in the weather witch's voice held a calculated scorn as the tip of the blade moved downward to play a delicate pattern against the paleness of a vulnerable inner thigh. "Available to any defilement."

The slow pace of each drawn out second played havoc with the telepath's nerves so that when the cut finally came it rocked through her senses like a lightening strike. When Ororo in a fluid move, sank down to her knees and pressed the heat of her mouth to the tingling nick, Emma bit her lip to prevent the small whimper at the back of her throat from escaping. This time the weather witch lingered, biting at the wounded spot slowly and listening as the telepath's breath shuddered and grew harsh. She bit… until Emma cried out in true, pained protest.

Storm held the flesh in her teeth for the space of a dozen heartbeats before releasing. She had not broken skin, but the imprint of her bite would remain for some small while. The sight of her mark, startling angry red on such tender fair flesh was curiously fascinating. And for no other reason but that it pleased her to do so, she stayed to gently trace the impression with her lips and exploring tongue.

This unexpected soothing after the pain nearly put Emma to tears. It hurt… it really did… and yet something about the pain felt… Despite her will to be unmoved, Emma felt herself react to the now sweet torment of tenderness mixing with the darting sting from the bite. Low and deep she felt herself tighten and grow… slick. Alarmed, she tried to draw her legs together. Emma couldn't bare the thought of Storm noticing the particular effect she was having. It was a doomed effort, for the weather witch was inconveniently positioned between the Emma's parted thighs, and so close to her traitorously moistening sex, the weather witch could not help but scent the subtle musk that perfumed the air. The soft play of Storm's mouth paused…

Ororo stilled as she breathed in the unmistakable richness of arousal. She had meant to punish, not seduce the woman who hung captive and shivering with what Storm could no longer ignore was sexual want. Emma Frost's reaction was unlooked for, and deeply disturbing, but no more so than her own answering rise of excitement. It felt good to bleed this sleek smooth flesh, to watch the tender crimson pearls form, then claim them as her right. And it felt good to bite the pale porcelain skin and mark it with her teeth, till Emma's made such sweetly, distressed noise. And it felt indescribably delicious to know with absolute certainty that her delicate torment had brought the once proud and powerful White Queen to true, helpless, heated need. Ororo could smell the aroused perfume of Emma's oh so close sex so strongly that it almost pulsed warm and rich on her tongue.

Storm laid her cheek against the trembling of Emma's soft inner thigh, and closed her eyes, simply breathing. Sight… sound… scent… taste… touch… She had no sense that was not being utterly seduced. Sage, how could she have _not_ foreseen how her "gift" would become this tempting, erotic trap? Damn the cyberpath for playing with her like this!

Wrenching away, Storm stood up glaring at the bound, blonde telepath. How much had Emma been in collusion with Tessa's game?

"End Program 131" Storm's curt command rang out through the room like the knell of doom.

All traces of the long ago destroyed laboratory faded to naught in the space of a breath. The Y frame too disappeared, leaving a startled, confused, and still naked Emma to catch her self in a stumbling fall to the ground.

"Start Program, Setting, The Savage Land."

And everything was suddenly hot and jungle humid, and wildly green.

"I'll give you to the count of ten." Storm's cold words broke through Emma's bafflement, "Then I start hunting you."

"I don't understand…" Emma stood, feeling unsteady both from her sudden release, the change of venue, and the remaining aftermath of Storm's not so tender mercies.

Ignoring the hesitant blonde telepath for the moment, Storm gathered her skirt and slashed away the fabric to a ragged knee length.

"You don't want me to catch you, Emma. You really don't." Storm's voice held a fierceness that made the other woman step back before she realized she had given way. "Start running while you have the chance."

"And If I don't?" Emma refused to simply rabbit, even though the electricity in the air had become charged once more, raising Storm's hair to wave like milk white flame that matched the pure burning pearl of her eyes.

"Then I'll savage you. Here. Now." Storm's voice was also laced with electricity, and terrible promise. "So run. Run now Emma Grace Frost. Run for your life."


	8. The Chase

The Gift 

Part 8, "The Chase"

She ran. Breath a clawed thing in her chest, crashing through the foliage with only one thought foremost in her mind, _RUN! Run fast run very very fast_The edges of leaves cut at her, small branches and vines whipped and abraded her unprotected skin, but Emma focused on achieving as much distance as possible before Storm began her pursuit. The look in the X-man's eyes had been frightening, and Emma was no longer sure if her boast of lasting a session with Storm without using her safe word was as important as it had been in the beginning.

The pulsing, aching heat of the few small wounds Storm had given her had been so unexpected. Not the measure of harms done, but the way they had been delivered, with something more than mere retribution. The telepath had expected at best a verbal brow beating, at worst an actual physical chastisement that while humiliating would be no more than the suffering of a few strikes and blows, while the X-men team leader's sense of fair play would keep her from doing true harm. From anyone but Storm, she might have prepared herself for less clean-cut forms of vengeance. And if it had been anyone but Storm that Tessa proposed Emma give herself to, she most likely would have declined.

This was madness. Emma had no woodcraft, much less any knowledge skills at dealing with a primordial jungle. Hiding would be a joke, so all she could hope for would be that the Ororo's pursuit would be impeded by the dense, lush jungle growth long enough for whatever fierce passion that burned in her now ebbed to more… manageable levels.

And abruptly the jungle ended, bringing Emma to a skidding stop as the great river before her broke over her senses with the sound of rushing water and moist scent of fecund life. It was magnificent in its primal, elemental glory, as was the creature drinking from its edge. Tawny fur and muscle, golden feline eyes, and teeth like great and gleaming ivory daggers marked the sabertooth female for what she was, a supreme huntress, beautiful and terrible to behold.

Frozen in momentary surprise, Emma only stared at the beast as it lunged forward in a fluid movement that she'd only witnessed in one other being. As if summoned by her thoughts, a bolt of lightening seared the ground between the great cat and the telepath, and Storm stepped from the jungle's edge, electric energy shifting in her hands like a playful, living cats cradle.

"_**Mine." **_

The sabertooth female chuffed, taking in the newcomer in a glance. Though she seemed a frail opponent, it could recognize the predator spirit in the two legged, rival huntress. Another bolt of lightening that struck close enough to rain rubble onto golden furred paws, and the great cat decided the creamy pale morsel, while delicious looking, was already claimed. Shaking out her tawny frame, the sabertooth lioness disappeared into another part of the jungle, leaving the two smooth skins alone.

"You disappoint me Emma, you didn't get very far at all." Storm's voice was cool condescension as she slowly stalked towards the telepath, the sizzling strands of energy still weaving alarmingly between her hands. "I had hoped for better from you."

"You may consider yourself a great hunter, but you've forgotten something important, Storm." Emma's voice was somewhat winded from her run, but held a desperate determination that halted the white haired mutant for a moment.

"And that would be?" Storm's head tilted as she took in Emma's disheveled hair and the new cuts and abrasions on her unprotected flesh. The former White Queen was visibly worse for wear, but she still radiated an in inner strength of spirit that made her rather magnificent in her naked defiance.

"A hunt isn't over until you've brought down your prey."

She was moving before the last word was even out her mouth, sprinting for the river. Without the great cat to bar her way, Emma was far closer to the dubious safety of it's waters than Storm was to her. Ignoring the shout from the X-men leader, Emma caught her breath and dove, cutting cleanly into the water and below the surface to swim as strongly as she could. What the weather witch couldn't see, she couldn't catch. Unfortunately, Emma had forgotten that the Savage Land's waters contained dangers to match any that trod the land.

When something scaled and serpentine brushed against her, Emma's heart almost burst through her chest from the pounding. She couldn't see exactly what was in the murky water with her; only sense the immense size of it as it coiled around her, dragging her down. Frantically she tried to wiggle loose. If she could only make it to the surface… The telepath tried not to lose what little breath she had left in a useless spray of bubbles. No safe word could save her if she wasn't able to give it voice…

She fought. Clawing at steel muscled scaled flesh that only continued to constrict. The silt heavy water was in her nose and mouth… clouding her eyes… her lungs were on fire… a last desperate frenzy of effort… Useless… On the last edge of consciousness, the water suddenly exploded into a frenzy of thrashing motion that flung the now limp telepath free. As her mind faded to shadow, Emma could see the shimmer of light that was the sun on the water's surface… too far away… too late...?

Something curled around her waist… Her last wisp of consciousness fading Emma saw the pale flash of a silver white mane and knew…

…

…Emma was sure she was retching up the entire river, and it tasted _foul_. She hurt inside and out, but between wheezing coughs that purged the water from her throat and lungs and finally faded into shuddering breaths she managed to call Storm several choice names and suggest at least two physically impossible things the X-man could do to herself and with the creature the weather witch had rescued her from.

"Are you finished?" Storm's voice held an amused note that infuriated Emma, but as the telepath's ice blue glare met the laughing silver blue of Ororo's eyes, she nodded. On her hands and knees on the river bank, naked but for waterlogged white leather boots, bruised, scratched, and half drowned, Emma knew she was in the unhappy position of owing the weather witch her life.

"You saved me." The acknowledgement was less than gracious, but Emma made the effort without the grimace she managed to reign in.

"Not the first time." Storm's voice was indulgent, but there was an edge behind her words set Emma's warning bells off. The dark skinned woman had worked off some of her rage in killing the river serpent, but it was far from spent.

"Don't expect me to fall over in gratitude." Emma's felt weak as a kitten, but she could still manage a credible snarl… Which would have been far more effective if her shaking limbs hadn't chosen that moment to fail her. The blonde telepath collapsed in a sprawl on her side, and started to shiver uncontrollably.

"Emma?" Storm's sharp exclamation of surprise held a note of genuine concern as she realized that delayed shock had finally caught up with the White Queen. Without stopping to think it through, the X-man simply reacted, going to the shaking telepath and drawing her into an embrace. "End Program the Savage Land. Begin Program, Kahn's Grotto."

The river, the jungle, the Savage Land faded away in the space of a heart beat, instantly replaced by lush, exotic luxury. This was the heart of the private harem where Storm was once held prisoner by the conqueror known as Kahn. In the beautiful and indomitable X-man, Kahn had met his match, and claimed her as his queen. Storm however had shown the would be ruler of her world that what was captured, was not always so easily kept. Now, here in a perfect recreation of her most exquisite and perfumed cage, Ororo held a violently trembling Emma Frost close, and let a warm gust of air carry them into the warm waters of a heated bathing pool. In the original, Storm had recovered from a savage backstabbing by the murderous "prince" of Madripoor, the criminal known as Viper. In this flawless recreation, the steaming waters soothed away the bone deep chill of shock that had settled into Emma's traumatized system.

When the tremors wracking the telepath finally quieted away, Storm quietly released Emma and stripped out of the rags that was all that remained of the once lovely gown the X-man had begun her evening in. Leaving the torn cloth in a wet heap beside the bathing pool, Storm returned the silent, but wary blonde woman who still soaked in the heated waters.

"The boots have to go."

Storm's comment caused Emma to take a step back. It was ridiculous that removing the boots would matter to her. She was already naked in every way that counted, and the white leather now thrice soaked were ruined. But when the white haired weather witch reached for the release tab at her inner thigh, Emma couldn't help but skittishly shuffle away. Silver blue cat's pupil eyes narrowing, Storm stalked forward as the telepath awkwardly retreated, her backward steps hampered by deep bath water, and fact that the very boots she was strangely reluctant to have Storm remove did not give Emma any traction on the smooth surface of the bathing pool's floor.

Emma's ice blue eyes were wide and staring as she felt the edge of the pool press firm against her back. There wasn't any farther she could retreat. Storm drew closer until only the thinnest space was between her dusky nakedness and Emma's on pale nudity.

"Why are you running away, Emma?" Storm's voice was a low, purring sound that sent a new shiver through the telepath.

"I don't want you to catch me." Emma's voice was a shaky whisper, as Storm moved forward that final sliver of space, pressing her warm dark flesh firmly against Emma's own.

"Liar."

Emma opened her mouth to protest, and Storm claimed it with a kiss…

To Be Continued.


	9. The Capture

The Gift

Chapter 9: The Capture

Sensual strength, warm, moist and seductive captured the softness of Emma's mouth and demanded nothing less than her complete surrender. She could feel herself being lost in the absolute mastery of the kiss, feel herself yielding what she had never completely yielded before, and the smallest sounds of panic'd alarm escaped the former White Queen; tiny desperate whimpers that only served to excite Storm's already heated blood. Ruthlessly the darker woman deepened the kiss, her fingers curling in the damp, champagne blonde paleness of the telepath's hair with a deliberate cruelty. Emma's weak, instinctive struggle was like spiced wine, intoxicating… her mouth was like heated honey. Ororo's kiss grew more intimately possessive as she felt the other woman tremble against her, the full length of their bodies pressed so close together she could feel the frantic racing of Emma's heartbeat.

Something hungry and dark stirred in Storm's soul, a waking panther shadow that purred at the tender vulnerability of the prey in its grasp… It was only with an iron exercise of will power that she managed to pull herself away, to step back and leave Emma, her breathing ragged and pale blue eyes wide and staring, to cling to the edge of the bath for support.

"The boots, Emma. Take them off, or I will take them off for you." There words came out harshly, almost in a growl, and the silver blue of Ororo's eyes was fever bright.

Part of her wanted the telepath to refuse, to make it necessary to fight her, forcefully subdue her, take her… Heat blossomed through Storm and her lips parted to let softly panting breath escape. Some small, distant part of her was shocked at the feral turn of her thoughts, the animalistic urgency that ran through the core of her being. But it was a very small part indeed, and easily drowned out by the new excitement that was flooding her. For so long Storm had kept her deeper, darker passions caged. Her time in the underground mutant arenas had cracked that cage, and let loose the fierce thing that lived in her heart of hearts. Thankfully, for the peace of mind of her fellow X-men if nothing else, those less acceptable passions mostly slept unless given dire provocation. Unfortunately for the one time White Queen, her mere existence was now proving to be all the provocation needed.

Unsteady hands fumbled in the bath water, finding and releasing the catches so the ruined white leather boots could be peeled open. Emma got them each half way undone, but faltered when she realized to strip them completely off, she'd have to risk sinking beneath the surface of the warm bath water. It was too soon… the memory of drowning too fresh and terrible in her mind.

"I…" Her voice trailed off uneasily, sure that her hesitation would be taken as defiance, when for once it was not. She felt strangely weak, and for the first time in a very long while, self conscious to the point of being…

She'd wavered in her indecision too long, and Ororo had closed the distance between them once more, her dark hands startling against the white leather even through the shifting, steam kissed bath waters. Storm's slender, strong hands were surprisingly gentle as the weather witch worked each boot off while Emma braced herself against the upper edge of the bathing pool to keep her balance. As the last boot came off with a firm tug, at last leaving the blonde completely stripped of her Hellfire regalia. Emma shivered despite the warmth of water. Never had she felt so completely bare. It was more than the being naked, which she'd long ago learned to ruthlessly disregard. Somehow she felt exposed in more than just her skin. A thread of fear pulled sharp and bright through her entire being as she finally recognized the trembling feeling that suffused her as something like… shy excitement. Dammit… she turned away and tried to summon up the familiar shielding emotion of simmering antagonism that had served her so well for so long… she wasn't some dewy teenager awaiting her first ravishment…

She started suddenly, as the warm silky strength of Storm's arms slid around her from behind, and the telepath's traitor body tingled with pleasure to be held in so sweet and inescapable an embrace. Emma looked up, over her shoulder and into the other woman's face with a wary watchfulness. The silver blue eyes watched back, exotic cat like eyes that staring at her with beautiful, terrifying predator intensity.

"You didn't give me a good hunt." The husky foreign lilt of Africa in her voice was as lovely and lulling as the words were alarming, "I was wanting to bring you down in the jungle. I wanted to run you down and drag you screaming and struggling to the ground, then do things to you that would make you weep and cry out in earnest. How should I punish you for disappointing me so?"

Twin starbursts of fear and heat flooded through Emma as Storm dragged the smooth, manicured edges of her nails slowly down the damp, tender valley between the telepath's full breasts in an unsettling caress. The bathing pool water reached just high enough to lap at the dark fingertips that stoked the sweet under swell before they idly captured a pink, turgid tip and pinched just to the point of bearable pain. Emma jerked in surprise, but then tried to hold still as beneath the surface of the bath water, Storm's other hand played over the curve of her hip and slid lazily along the sensitive border where Emma's toned yet still tender tummy ended and the slight sloping curve of her sex began.

_**And the rest of this chapter is too racy to upload to this site. For those who are interested in following the story, full chapters of "The Gift" are posted to the X-men Femslash Group on Yahoo. Later they will be posted to the Fem-X page and others. Updates will follow. Sorry for any inconvenience, but with the "Mature" rating cap on content that can be posted to this site, there isn't anything I can do about this. Again, apologies.**_

_**MooncatX **_


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